Disclaimer: I own neither Sherlock Holmes nor Criminal Minds and therefore do not make money from either

Watson and Holmes looked around them, 'Watson, it appears we're not in London anymore.' No they most certainly were not in London anymore; in fact they weren't even in Britain anymore.

Holmes drew a hand through his shaggy hair and Watson took off his hat to survey the world around them. It was a bustling city, full of people going to and fro, barely noticing the two men that appeared from nowhere. 'What time are we in, Watson' Holmes asked his companion; he noticed that all the people were wearing clothes not fitting the Victorian era. Watson picked up a newspaper that someone discarded on a bench, 'February the twelfth two thousand and ten. Hmm, he sent us over a hundred years into the future it appears. And America has a coloured President.'

'Have they really? How times change, why I read just last week that some Americans still kept coloured slaves.' Holmes looked around; 'So we are in America?'

'Yes, apparently we're in Virginia.' Watson looked over the newspaper. There was a blonde woman heading towards them, Watson nodded in her direction. Holmes turned around and raised his eyebrows.

'I am Jennifer Jareou, Media Liaison for the FBI, who are you?'

'I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my companion Doctor John Watson.' Watson lifted his hat off his head and his cane off the ground.

JJ pinched the bridge of her nose, 'Great! I have a couple of jokers on my hands!' Holmes and Watson looked from one to another, confused by what she had just said. 'Better come with me.' Holmes and Watson looked at each other, shrugged, and followed.

Inside the FBI building they were led to JJ's office, but Holmes' curiosity got the better of him and he began to thumb through the files on her desk. 'Watson, these are cases!' Watson looked up from his seat.

'What, Holmes?'

'This, look, 3 young women murdered in their homes, all single, all living alone. I'd wager an opportunistic killer. The young women likely left a window open to air their homes, living in California I highly doubt they would need to keep heat in, and the killer got in that way. I'd advise all young women to keep their doors and windows locked until this man is caught.'

They both turned round to find JJ looking at them. 'You shouldn't be looking at that, it's confidential.'

'I apologise, madam, it is only that I am somewhat of a private detective. So naturally, I was curious.' Holmes closed the file and set it back on the desk.

'Well, that might be but you still shouldn't have looked at the file. My boss wants to see you both.' And with that she turned on her heels and left the room.

Holmes and Watson were led to the round table room, where Hotch sat alone, 'Please, Mr Holmes, sit down. You too Dr Watson, please sit.' He motioned to the two empty chairs in front of him. 'Now, let's cut the crap. Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character.' Holmes looked confused. 'Tell me your real names.'

'I assure you, my good man, that I am no fictional character, Sherlock Holmes is my real name. I don't know where you got the notion that I was fictional. And furthermore…' Holmes was cut off by the sound of a 'thud' on the desk. 'Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles' was the title of the book. Watson picked it up and looked at the cover; there was a rotund man with a moustache and a bowler hat standing next to a clean-shaven man in a deerstalker with a pipe. Himself and Holmes he suspected.

'This was the last case we worked on before I met Mary. Holmes, how could this Conan-Doyle fellow know about it?' Watson asked handing his companion the book.

'Simple, he followed us, same as I did you when we were on that case. Not to worry, Watson.' Holmes gave his friend a reassuring smile. Suddenly the door burst open and a young woman stood in the doorway looking from JJ to Hotch and then to Holmes and Watson.

'Sorry, dad, I'll wait outside until you're finished.' And with that she was gone as fast as she arrived. Watson looked back at Hotch but Holmes kept his eyes on the door.

'Holmes…Holmes, for goodness sake HOLMES!'

'Yes, Watson, what do you want old boy?' Watson pointed at Hotch. 'Ah, well Mr Hotchner. It appears we are out of time.'

'Not yet we're not.'

'No, I meant Watson and me; we're out of our time. We have to find a way back, and soon it seems.'

'Why don't you sit back down and tell me everything from the beginning?'

'Well.' Holmes began. 'It all started when I got the most intriguing case from an anonymous client. He or she asked me to find something of value. Not giving me a clue as to what it was I began to track them down, anyway Watson and myself tracked them down all the way to the Palace. Upon our arrival a mysterious figure in a black cloak appeared and said that I had no idea how difficult things were going to get for me. When I questioned further I felt something tug at my lapels, it was as though I were a fish someone had just caught. And then we; Watson and myself, found ourselves here talking to your delightful Ms Jareou.' Holmes smiled at JJ.

'Jayje, I have something to tell you.' A rather voluptuous woman walked in carrying files in her hand and what Watson could only describe as a metal case in her hand. 'I got nothing on the guy that says he's Sherlock Holmes, but this Watson guy, he's telling the truth. I found newspapers dating back to the Victorian era with his name and picture! Oh, you're here. I'm Garcia, Penelope Garcia.' Garcia smiled and held out her hand for each man to shake it, which Holmes did, however Watson took it and kissed it.

'Enchante, Penelope.' He said releasing it. Garcia giggled like a schoolgirl. Holmes merely looked at his companion. 'Oh like you wouldn't have done that?' Holmes raised his eyebrows, and then nodded, conceding defeat.

'Just where is that girl anyway, the girl who burst in on us earlier, looking for her father.'

'Oh you mean Jemma? She's Hotch's daughter. She'll be talking with him right now.' JJ piped up.

'That's the one, well Watson, come along old boy.' Holmes clapped a hand to his companion's shoulder. 'I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy it here.' Holmes smiled as he walked on, eager to start a new life in the twenty-first century.